ALIAS | loid forger x reader / agent twilight x reader [spyxfamily]

PROLOGUE

Agent Hecate [soon-to-be Y/n Forger.] Thursday, 10:53 PM.

"You just got euchred, asshole."

My partner and I had the most mischievous of grins plastered on our faces. The other pair we were versing, some old friends from intelligence, were not too thrilled.

"What's the score now, 4-1?" Sasha inquired smugly.

Sasha had been my partner for a long time. One might even say she's my partner in crime, but within the CIA, no crime is truly a crime unless a.) you get caught, or b.) it doesn't benefit the country somehow. Not that I really commit international crimes, but maybe field work doesn't always deserve to be justified as legal.

"5 actually," I smiled. "They called trump on this one."

Euchre was a game that our deputy director taught us on a random hot and sticky evening when I was a rookie. His steps seemed peppier and his voice a tad more eager to respond to anyone. I've known him for seven years by now, and Sasha and I still speculate about what exactly happened that day.

Euchre is a tricky game. It's a card game, which proves to be convenient since for some reason, at least one person in a given room will have cards on them. You and a partner try to outsmart your opponents. You can place shitty cards, make others believe you have a good hand based on what you play... the list goes on. When Sasha and I first played, we lost badly to the deputy director. Over and over again. As two rookies, it was consequently embarrassing.

"What you two are not thinking of," he started, "is each other. Think about what kind of hand they could have. Help them. You both are equally ranked, but you cannot succeed without taking your partner into consideration."

Alas, that was true. I was thinking about how to save my best cards and play my cards right. But if both of us play our best card at the same time, one of us ends up wasting it.

Nowadays, Sasha and I tap our hand in morse code to figure out what cards we have. It's cheating, but we win often. Luckily, these two assholes have very little analytic skills for people who work for the CIA.

"Alright, I think we need a break," one of the two men said.

"Oh do you, Whiz?"

Whiz. Ah, what a character.

Originally, his alias was Whiz because our friends got into an argument one time over that cheese in a can stuff. Naturally, since he was defending it, he earned the notorious name. Shortly after, however, people called him Whiz Kid because he decoded some message for the Chinese and saved the victim before they could get to him. Now, Whiz is just Whiz. The guy is quite impressive.

"Actually, we do have to get going," his partner added while standing from his seat at the table. Sometimes, I forget how tall he is. "You guys are involved with Ostania, yeah?"

That's when I was brought back to my senses. Although sitting at a cafeteria table in HQ on a (Thursday?) during my fourth night shift in a row was fun, this week has probably been one of the most exhausting yet entertaining weeks of my career.

Within the past few days, the relatively young nation of Ostania has endured some conflict. Peace between its eastern and western sectors have been in jeopardy, but the Westalian society has yet to know about it.

This is how it typically goes. The CIA knows some things that we hide from society. Then, when the opportunity arises, the once classified cases become available to the public eye. That's the fun part. Sometimes we get scrutinized; some critics argue that "the government hides stuff from us, we don't know what's really going on!" Blah, blah, nonsense. That's the way the world works. If everyone knew about our plans following 9/11, the world would fall into chaos. Not everyone deserves to be privy to what goes on behind closed doors.